The Book of Dreams
by Un tango mas
Summary: AU 7th year Hermione has a secret and is not too delighted when she is discovered by Snape during a Potions class. He, however, becomes quite intrigued...no romance, sorry
1. Chapter 1 Uncovered

Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling owns everything you recognize.

No spoilers, this takes place in an AU 7th year.

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_One_

"_The problem of each story is that you are telling it after the events have already happened."  
__Chuck Palahniuk, Lullaby_

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"You will find the list of ingredients required for this potion on page 358 as I am sure you should all know, since you were supposed to read it already" Snape said in a bored tone.

Immediately, the rustle of pages began and Snape rolled his eyes, turning towards the blackboard.

"Read the list carefully before you go to the cupboard," he said" I would _hate_ to have to deduct points from those taking more ingredients than required."

As he reached his desk Snape turned to face the class again and waved his wand towards the blackboard.

"You are aware, of course, that this is a complicated potion. The instructions are therefore more detailed and I expect you to follow the steps accordingly."

Hermione too opened her book and pretended to read the list of ingredients. In truth, she already knew it by hard but she didn't want to be called a 'show-off' again. She was somewhat thankful they had to brew this potion alone, this way she didn't have to supervise her partner _and_ concentrate on the potion at the same time.

She warily stood and moved towards the cupboard, taking her scale and trey with her and noting to herself that it was a pity she felt so numb, she would have enjoyed the challenge of today's potion otherwise.

It was only much later that Hermione snapped out of her trance-like state. She had been mechanically reading, cutting, stirring but now she was suddenly aware of Snape's angry tone as he loomed over a student, as he had done for so many years.

"I will _not_ tolerate such mistakes, Mr. Boot. You are no longer a quivering eleven-year old" he spat. "You are attending this class because _apparently_ your knowledge of potions is superior to that of most students and I expect you to live up to such expectations. However, continue to work so _accurately _and you will never stand a chance to pass your N.E.W.T. in Potions."

He vanished the boy's potion and added: "Consider it a zero, Mr. Boot and detention this evening. You may remove yourself from my classroom before any points are deducted; one moment longer and we would have witnessed an acidic rain."

_Rain_

Hermione drew in her breath as the word finally triggered her memory and visions of sparkling rain and water streaming downhill invaded her. All morning she had tried to remember last night's dream. She knew it had been quite vivid and yet it evaded her, leaving only that feeling of being so close and yet so far. Harry and Ron had of course mocked her for being distracted, stating she was 'off in dreamland again'…they had no idea they were close to the truth for once.

Hermione silently cursed her luck; of all the moments and places to remember, it _had_ to be during class, in Snape's dungeons. Her fingers almost itched to write down all the details she could remember before they were lost once more. She glanced up just in time too see her hour-glass empty and she hastily added the last ingredient, stirring the potion as indicated.

Lowering the fire she considered the situation: everybody seemed to pay attention to their own potion, and Snape was carefully observing the others, not willing to take any chances. Hermione, however, decided to take hers and quietly took out a notebook and a muggle pencil from her bag.

She started writing as fast as she could, wasting no time.

"I do not recall asking you to write anything down, Miss Granger."

Hermione froze as she heard his voice, far too close to her working-space.

"But of course following directions is beyond your skills" Snape continued, reaching out for her book as everybody sniggered. He frowned as Hermione hastily closed the book, but still managed to snatch it from her hands.

"Well, well, well…I was not aware you were such an expert, that you need not supervise your potion, Miss Granger...or should I say Miss _know-it-all_. But of course, you are so much better than the rest of your colleagues." More giggles erupted.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger for your arrogance" he sneered. "And I believe a detention is due. Tomorrow evening, since it appears that I am otherwise engaged today."

He turned, walking towards his desk, where he lifted the hand holding Hermione's book: "And this shall be confiscated, of course. You-"

"But, sir!" Hermione cut him off desperately, "Sir, please…I…please!"

"Ten more points, Miss Granger for interrupting a teacher and unless you want to lose more points due to your incoherence I suggest you _sit down_ and concentrate on today's task!"

"Sir…"

But one raised eyebrow silenced Hermione. She _loathed_ how he could still do that after seven years.

Hermione could barely keep quiet for the reminder of her class. Feelings and thoughts swirled through her as she waited. As everyone left the classroom she approached the teacher's desk.

"There will be no answered pleas, Miss Granger, so do not waste our time" Snape cut her off. "I will decide _if_ and _when_ your precious object will be returned."

With that Snape took the book from his desk and swept towards the door, leaving no more room for discussions.

It was only late that same day when he finally managed to turn his attention back to the mysterious object. Severus sat down and studied the leather bound book. It was dark blue, indigo perhaps, with two long black straps hanging from the center of the book's spine, surely there to hold the book closed. He finally opened it only to find the first page blank. He turned it but the next one was also blank, and the next, and…he sneered, taking his wand. Of course the contents were hidden, the little know-it-all left few things to chance. Severus briefly considered what spell to use; he remembered seeing her write, seeing both open pages full of writing so surely invisible ink had to be excluded.

Thirty minutes later Severus had completely forgotten his hesitation to read the girl's book, something so well guarded simply _had_ to be hiding something important. He sneered as he remembered how desperately Granger had tried to convince him to return the book.

He felt an unusual triumph as he finally saw the pages filling with the girl's writing.

Severus turned to the very first page once again and raised an eyebrow as he read the four words elegantly written in the center of the page:

'_**The Book of Dreams' **_

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The quotation is surely inaccurate, since it's my own translation. I do not own the novel in English, nor could I find the quote on the internet.


	2. Chapter 2 Explained

Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling owns everything you recognize.  
No spoilers, this takes place in an AU 7th year.  
Chapter 2 of my story, in which Severus does some reading. I hope you won't find it boring, there's little to no action…

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_Two_

_"Dreams are illustrations... from the book your soul is writing about you."  
Marsha Norman_

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'The Book of Dreams?'

Severus snorted in amusement at the obvious irony of Hermione Granger, renowned _enemy_ of Divination and know-it-all facts-lover writing something as ridiculous as a 'book of dreams'.

A malicious gleam past through his eyes as he turned the page and started reading.

'_I cannot believe the irony in my writing about dreams'_ the first line said _'when I indeed cling to the facts of books, to their precision and accuracy.  
I feel somewhat ridiculous now for having mocked Divination and those who believe in it (nothing, however, will change my mind about Trelawney!), but what I want to write about is not the future. I will write about myself.'_

Severus raised an eyebrow. Miss Granger had never struck him as selfish and he was rather disappointed, he had, of course, hoped this book might contain something more worthwhile. But the girl had proved to be quite…_unpredictable_ in her choice of subject so he might as well find out what she _dreamed_ to do with herself. He smirked and turned his attention back to the book.

'_Dreams are something I've never really considered important, I always brushed them off as nothing more than imagination. I suppose I'm like that: whatever I don't understand becomes of no importance to me.'  
_Severus had to wonder at such a remark; it sounded exactly like something he would have said to criticize her.  
_'And yet something determined me to start writing down what I dream at night.'  
_'At night?' Severus thought. So this book was about actual dreams, not a seventeen-year old girl's fantasies and hopes. Once again his interest was captured, for Severus had to admit to himself that he knew very little about dreams.

'_I normally practice what I preach, and despite the fact that I always encourage Harry and Ron to ignore the insults and injustice surrounding us, I can never look past being called a Mudblood. It hurts to see how prejudice is so blinding, and I would expect more from those who consider themselves adults.  
But I suppose old habits do indeed die hard for those two Slytherin bullies.'_

Severus briefly thought she was obviously _not_ practicing what she preached, for House-grudges were indeed prejudiced.

'_That day, in September, was no different. Yet again I was labeled Mudblood and yet again I felt my eyes sting.  
What an absurd word I'd thought then, _Mudblood_. Mud had nothing to do with it. The opposite of pure was obviously impure, not mud! Mud is earth mixed with water, two powerful elements of nature, both important to witches and wizards.  
I did try to forget that event, but the dream I had the next night could only prove my failure.  
That night my dream started with…mud.'_

Severus turned the page, curious to see where this was leading to.  
_'I was standing alone on a sort of field and the ground beneath my feet was red-brown and muddy. I took of my shoes and walked barefoot in the mud, I could actually feel my feet sinking in it.  
There were shoe-prints in the mud and as I followed them they led me to a man. He was standing with his back towards me, hands in the pockets of his black suit, and he was singing.  
I ran towards him and slipped my hand under his arm as if he was blind and I was guiding him. We both started to run on the path which was dryer now and he was barefoot too.  
We kept running for a long while and I felt so happy and neither of us got tired. We jumped over a broken fence and climbed down some stairs sculpted in the earth.  
His song was over but we were still running. When we finally stopped, the dream ended as well.' _

Severus considered what he had just read. Her memory of the dream was very accurate and it seemed to involve so many senses. He could not recall ever having a similarly realistic dream, but then again he rarely remembered dreaming at all. Still considering that aspect, Severus turned his attention back to the book.

'_Ever since that day and that dream I have become quite obsessed with theories about the meaning of dreams, with symbols and interpretation.  
I was quite surprised that people (Muggles at least…) have had such a great interest in dreams and their interpretation since ancient times. I remember reading a revealing quotation from the Jewish Talmud, it said: "A dream which is not interpreted is like a letter which is not read." _

'Jewish proverbs?' This was indeed beginning to interest Severus.

'_It was only after I read several books on this newly discovered subject that I started to write_ this_ book, and I hope to be able to continue it.  
Naturally I've become quite an expert in dream symbols and I must admit that a lot of them make sense so I will try to interpret the meaning of the dream I have just written about._

_First of all the mud; apparently to dream that you are walking in it means that you are feeling weighed down by a situation, a problem – in my case prejudices and offenses.  
Taking off my shoes suggests that I am leaving restraints behind me. I'm refusing to conform to some idea or attitude.  
The fact that I saw an unknown man in my dream actually denotes my masculine aspect, the side of me that is assertive, rational, aggressive, and/or competitive. And the song – hearing it indicates that I am looking at things from a spiritual viewpoint.  
As for running…well it may mean that I am actually running from a problem, but running with someone is a sign of festive times.'_

Severus was amazed. Not only was everything she had written logical, but it also matched her _situation_ from the previous day she had referred to. It was indeed fascinating; he could easily understand her proclaimed obsession with this.  
And all this information she got from books? Muggle books too! 'How _extraordinary_' Severus thought.

'_One might think that this is all so extraordinary…every explanation fits and it's so very reasonable…' _Severus' brow lifted reading this line.  
_'But after so much research I have finally chosen where my beliefs lie: with the ideas of a great theorist. Like him, I have come to believe that dreams are a link to our subconscious and that there are no universally true explanations for elements in dreams.  
Dreams are a product of _our_ mind; therefore they must have a personal interpretation._

_So I believe that now I can easily explain my dream without consulting any so-called dream dictionaries.  
The mud was obviously a symbol and the faceless man stood for all those who think of me and all Muggleborns as filthy. That's why he was blind in my dream; he couldn't see the truth so I guided him and showed him he would not get dirty by joining me.  
My subconscious found a way to prove that which I cannot do in reality…_

Severus had to re-read that last line, a line which ended her first entry in this book.  
Perhaps he had been mistaken about Miss Granger after all. In these few pages she had seemed so…different to him, she had unintentionally proved that she could evaluate, she could choose and explain.

But Severus did not wish to think about it any longer, not now. There would be time later, but for now he simply wanted to read.

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Hermione's dream was not made up; I dreamt it exactly as described.  
The Talmud is a record of rabbinic discussions on Jewish law, Jewish ethics, customs, legends, and stories (Wikipedia).  
Information about dream interpretation was taken from: dreammoods. com and their vast dream dictionary.

I hope you liked the chapter...it's quite different from the first.


	3. Chapter 3 Understood

_Three_

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_„Dream no small dreams for they have no power to move the hearts of men."  
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe_

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Severus' mind was an ocean of thoughts and images which swirled like a storm, making him a little light headed. His nightly rounds and the pile of essays waiting to be corrected had been forgotten as Miss Granger's writing completely absorbed him.  
That book was like a fantastical universe and yet it revealed so much about the girl.  
It was all rather surprising for Severus; he had never heard anyone describe a dream before. He had to exclude those silly children-nightmares and adolescent hormone-generated dreams he overheard the students talk about, of course, Miss Granger's dreams were nothing like them.

It was as if someone had showed him a completely different characteristic of the human mind and Severus was indeed fascinated. His curiosity had constantly grown while reading and he was determined to do some research of his own.

He had finally reached the last page and he had to smirk as he saw the girl's writing: it was almost unintelligible, her haste was quite obvious and she had only written ideas and short explanations. Seeing it from reading distance Severus realized that it was written with pencil. 'The _only_ page written with pencil' he thought 'and the only one without complete sentences.' He could only conclude that she rewrote everything when she had time and this could only remind Severus of what an annoying perfectionist she was.

He could barely read what she had written; something about walking up a hill (an arrow pointed from there to the word ambition), poring rain in a forest and water streams flowing downhill (again an arrow pointed towards an explanation: flow of new ideas).  
The frequency with which water appeared in her dreams surprised Severus, one would have expected her fiery Gryffindor temper to materialize in her sleep.

Severus closed the book and bound the two black straps around it. He then closed his eyes; it was late…or early, depending on how you wanted to see it and he was quite certain he would not be able to sleep at all.  
'Another dreamless night' he thought bitterly. Although, quite frankly _not_ dreaming was better than the horrid nightmares which usually plagued him at night. Severus felt that he envied the girl; even her most frightening dreams were nothing compared to his, they were not born out of guilt and there was always something darkly fascinating about them.

But there was never any magic in them, no wand. Perhaps the dreams were magical enough by themselves, or perhaps her _subconscious_, as she called it, blocked it out. It was also quite surprising that her two friends only appeared in one dream, but then again, Severus assumed she only wrote down the most vivid and interesting dreams and Potter and Weasley were anything but interesting, so in the end it did make_ some_ sense.

Severus decided to lie down for a while, until his thoughts settled and his mind cleared.

Still, the day passed like a blur for him. He remembered joining the staff for breakfast, but the only thing he noticed there was Miss Granger's absence from the Gryffindor table. Her two friends, however, seemed to be making up for it, eating as much as they could.

Time seemed to linger on that day. His Potions classes were strangely uneventful, despite the fact that he had not supervised the students. None of them wanted to question the professor's odd behavior; whatever was distracting him was also keeping him from deducting points and giving detentions, which suited them just fine.

Severus decided against having dinner that evening. Instead, he left for his chambers to retrieve the book._ She_ would be in his office for the detention after dinner and he had yet to decide what to do, Severus thought, although he felt that a decision had already formed in his mind.

He skipped through the pages of Miss Granger's book, re-reading some more interesting fragments. His office had been quiet, but for the turn of pages, until finally a clock struck eight. The last beat was still ringing through the room when a knock at the door made Severus look up and close the book.

He stood, answering with a stern 'Enter'.

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A/N: Shorter chapter, I know, but the next (and last) one is up too! I hope you've enjoyed it.


	4. Chapter 4 Shared

_Four_

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_"Not a word passes between us, not because we have nothing to say, but because we don't have to say anything."  
Khaled Hosseini, The Kite Runner_

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Hermione desperately wished for a Time-turner. A part of her still hoped this might all just be a nightmare, but in all honesty, she new the truth. By tomorrow every last person in Slytherin would be laughing at her and what was worse, she could think of no biting remark to throw back at them.

_Why? _Why did she have to take out that cursed notebook in _his_ class? Snape and his malicious pleasure to make a fool of her. She bitterly hoped he wouldn't decide to start lecture evenings and that he would eventually give her the book back.

Ron and Harry had, of course, noticed something was wrong that evening. As they _cleverly_ remarked, never had she spent an evening staring into nothingness, completely ignoring their assignments. Hermione doubted she could concentrate on anything.

That night sleep evaded her. She simply couldn't get Snape's smirking face out of her mind's eye and it was infuriating. Ironically, when she finally fell asleep, Hermione was yet again confronted with the same smirk. She was standing in a circle of people, all bearing the same mocking expression. Hermione tried to walk away but her feet would not obey her. She looked down and then back at the people surrounding her, which were now floating several feet in the air. And then she saw herself, from the same perspective as the others did, and she was completely naked.

That image had awoken her and one glance towards the night table told her it was still rather early.  
That morning Hermione was the first to enter the Great Hall for breakfast. All those hours lying awake were now taking their toll, but she didn't want to be seen by anyone, not while she could still avoid it.

It was a paradox how fast time had passed, but her day had been far more bearable than Hermione had expected it to: no one had said a mocking word to her and she had successfully managed to avoid Snape.

Until now, that is. There was no way to avoid her detention after dinner, so there she was, Hermione Granger, 17 years old and shaking in front of the Potions Master's office. She heard a clock strike eight times from within it and with that Hermione gathered all her courage and knocked.

"Enter" she heard him say, and enter she did.  
Snape's office was dimly lit by a couple of candles placed on his desk. He was leaning against said desk, with his back towards her. He made no move as she closed the door behind her.

Hermione waited for what seemed like an eternity (_she really hated time's sarcasm) _before she spoke. Whoever said silence was golden had surely never been confronted with Snape's silence.  
"Sir…" she almost whispered. "Sir, I'm here for the detention."

Severus finally turned to face the girl. She was standing near the door with an uncertain, fearful expression on her face. Severus forgot to mentally congratulate himself for still being able to do that, for not having lost his _touch_.

"Your detention has been canceled, Miss Granger" he said, the words sounding foreign even to himself.  
"Take this and leave."  
Hermione stared up at him in disbelief. He was holding out her book, staring back at her.

Not another word passed between them as they regarded each other with equal, undisguised curiosity. _Not because they had nothing to say, but because they didn't have to say anything. _Slowly, Hermione reached for the book, still holding his gaze. As Snape let go of the leather-bound object Hermione shyly smiled at him in gratitude.  
He was still watching her as she turned and left the room.

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Entering his office the next morning to retrieve some essays, Severus noticed a book he hadn't placed there, lying on his desk. He cautiously picked it up and read the title:

_Memories, Dreams, Reflections _by Carl G. Jung

His eyebrows lifted in surprise. He had read that name just yesterday, but this was extraordinary.  
Severus opened the book and stared at the words he saw on the first page:

To Professor S. Snape

"_A dream has power to poison sleep."_ Percy B. Shelley

H.G.

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A/N: Well, that was it, last chapter, I hope you liked it, I had a great time writing it.

Reviews are always welcome ;)

Edit: I had planned on this story ending here, I don't know...should I continue?


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